Instinct
by Thunderbird2
Summary: Matthew did not realize he died when waking up without his human memories, and now is driving Seattle into a small scale panic when word of a serial killer on the city streets spreads. The Cullens believe this not the case, not with how violently consipicious the last two murders were.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Stephine Meyers owns the characters and plot of the _Twilight Series_, only the OCs belong to me.

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How long has been since he last fed? Three days? Five? Seven? A week and two? Matthew leaned forward against the wall of the ally, head and arm resting on the cold stone, as he tried to block out the scent of the garbage men that passed through here weekly staring at the black ground. After days of resisting, he finally broke down. It was pointless, though. Through the rotting food and decomposition he still could smell them...it was maddening.

His legs were still strong, but his arms were heavy enough that could make...

_But there are others who meet here, too. _He reminded himself then thought against hunting them. _Then again..._

It would be too easy to be drawn in by the human dealers' presence. Even when they are not around, the smell of coke, among other illegal drugs, hung stale in the air sickened Matthew. One them probably was sick. Any other vampire, he supposed, would stake out the dead-end space and massacre them all if hungry enough or could careless about it to ignore the wretched scent of their trade. Most would not seek out challenges.

Matthew straightened up and walked out of the ally and into the crowd of late nighters on the sidewalk. Clearly it was a weekend. It has to be. The days were blurring together as his blood lust grew. High schoolers were out going to movies, shopping; college students were doing the same thing, if not more. They wouldn't know what he was if they spoke to him; just another human in their eyes.

He peeked out of the corner of his eyes at the people passing by, nitpicking for decent scents. There were none that caught his interest. Matthew restlessly glanced around, breathing deeply, but no scents stood out. They all were reaking trails that drifted thickly in the air. Nothing compared to the last person's bay leaf scent. It was not the scent that compelled him to hunt the college soritiy sister but the need to feed after so many days with the burning in his throat. Now it was pushing him to find his third meal.

His eyes were pulled towards to the theater passing in front of the entrance.

The blonde was comforting to be around. He noticed her leaving with friends waiting for his "date" who "stood him up," but pretended to not notice her sudden interest before she decided to introduce herself. The conversation did not last long as he left the theater to her disappointment after turning down the offer of going to a café for lattes with the three of them. They did not know she was targeted from the second she stepped out of there.

Looking away just as the ticket taker does from the computer behind the glass window, he walked on until he found himself downtown, thinking of the soft soul.

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Let me know what you think. Don't forget to post human OCs to be featured as victims - two for Seattle, two for Port Angeles.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Stephine Meyers owns the character's and plot of the _Twilight Series_, only the OCs belongs to me.

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Downtown was empty for a Thursday night. There were few people separating themselves from terrified crowds practically looking over their shoulders as if an demon were following them every step of the way to the next shop. But it was interesting, the way they gathered together. Very few listened to their instincts and choose to challenge fate; those were the people he wanted to talk to but did not chance a moment with. The more cautious. The more enviroment wary. The war scarred. These are the people that will be most guarded.

_They will guess I am not normal, not in my right mind...or know. _

Matthew was the same way. The streets were dangerous no matter how public and how many cops were placed on patrol. Especially the hummers. The hideous monsters guzzled gallons upon gallons of gas and yet they demanded more money and time than bills and taxes. He rubbed the hollow of his throat lightly as the back of it burned, becoming more demanding like gigantic vechile. It's been over an hour and a half.

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked around. A few shop owners were closing their stores in response to the "Downtown Slayings," as the news has dubbed the two killings so far. When did Hummers have anything with...tracking? They were hardly legal in his mind, an eye sore to the public street!

Unless Seattle was a war zone.

Flashes of a dark colored Hummer bursting into flames. The color did not matter at this point, it had the same hideous inconspicious advangte in a desert. Matthew forced the image away and focused his nose at the reminscent scent of burning flesh and powder, nearly choking himself to death, which was impossible...

His legs began to shake. There had to be something in the air that stood out...

"Hey," a male voice pulled his thinning attention span from tracking the air for his target. "are you alright? You look new around here or are you looking for someone?"

There was still nothing! The same off-putting and bland stenches were the only ones that he picked up from the ally. Matt blinked, refocusing his train of thought on the Assyrian exchange student. His heart beat in panic as much as the eyes gave away it by how oval they were, even as they studied him.

"You care why?" The suppressed growl viberated painfully.

The Assyrian flinched. It was too animalistic to be human, too ragged and dry to be starp throat. The hungry vampire in front of him was confused, but not stupid. He just stared, shaking where he stood.

All the student could think, _The myth is supposed to be folklore. _

"Did you die so young? I'm twenty-two, did you die in your early twenties?" ventured the human carefully.

"I don't know." Matthew thought about that a lot. Did he die so young? "You are?"

The student was surprised at how civil this one was being. An Ekimmu sounded like something that would attack first and ask who you are later instead of the reverse. What was his angle? He looked around them and gestured into a nearby cafe. Police prescene was increased because of he was doing but this did not shock him that an undead, blood thirsty and restless spirit would chose to play fair. At least for humans. For awhile.

Matthew followed, counting every heart beat. Obviously this human knew what he was. He gritted his teeth aganist every humans' heart pounding in his ears walking into the Starbucks cafe and sitting down at a table by the window while waiting for the stranger to come back. It was getting worse! That gnawing flame at the back of his throat. He leaned his elbows on the table, ignoring the ache of his back, and closed his eyes to rub his eyelids to ease the headache driving him crazy.

Who did he think he is? Why did he follow him in here?

His hazel nut scent did not appeal to him. It did not compare to the last human's - sweet bay leaf. The faint memory scent made him recall the last conversation with her...

"Hey there," she smiled flirtiously. "Who ya waiting for?"

"My girlfriend." He gave her a measured look.

A disappointed frown. She trailed off the question, "You've been waiting out here...?"

"Thirty minutes."

"Well, she might have to get settle for a rain check. My friends and me are are stopping by Starbucks on the way back to our car, want to join us?"

An amused smirk found his lips. "I'd rather wait for her."

Approaching footsteps snapped Matt out of the flashback. The dark-haired stranger sat down with a vanilla latte then turned equally black eyes on him, trying to pierce his marble skin and mask to get to his unmoving core. This did not make any difference.

"So you know what I am." Matthew prompted quietly. "Enlighten me, human."

The college student's face paled in horror at the lack of emotion and hard expression in the Ekimmu's face. The challenge. He calmed his breathing.

"What is your name?"

"Tell me what you know." Nothing he said would tip off this human as to who he was.

"How long has it been since you last hunted? You are nothing more than a twig."

"You're so eager to learn about me, and yet you hold out." Matt chuckled as if they were friends joking around. "I won't ask again."

The pale human's face faded sickly white. This Ekimmu's sanity was slipping! Now he wished he had his cousin with him! There was no way he could get a hold of his family at ten o' clock without them verbally beheading him at the first, second ring! But he had no choice but to answer if he wanted his own.

"You're an Ekimmu, a long feared vampire from Anicent Assyrian and Babylonian legend." the student wandered how sane this vampire really was, what kind of misery it brought into the afterlife that made him suffer so much. "Whatever happened, you possibly died violently or prematurely or even with unfulfilled love...or an...improper burial."

Matthew listened intently. Flashbacks of fire erupted, shaking the desert city and hard packed earth. Pain flashed through his left knee - burning as if the acid were in his veins all over again, and taking him by surprise as if a brick were dropped on it six feet from the air. It was the most intense agony he felt tripled. The mask hid his panic well in the stretching silence and stare down.

"How did you die, Ekimmu?"

Something was not right about this human, he realized. He was not supposed to know of his existence even if he did know he was a vampire. Was that why he hunted others as if they were animals?

"Like I told you before, if I had any clue to that you have to meet the Devil first. We'll talk when you do, if you can find me." The newborn shakily stood up on rubber legs and gripped the edge of the metal chair. The onyx black metal groaned lightly in his hand as he caught a breath.

The world spun in circles and his legs felt as if they would give out.

"That is going to be easy. My name is Lancet Zakia."

"Not very original or ethic for an name."

Lancet grimaced, it was the ghost of a smile. "The Devil kicked you out of Hell already, must have wanted to keep his throne to himself."

Matthew eyed him as he tensed, finding his footing. This human would do for now since Zakia was right. It would be too easy to find him in his "slim" condition. His hazel nut scent was attractive enough for any vampire, but it was not that. It would not be enough. The all too knowing realization on Zakia's face excited him.

Zakia knew he was in danger. Those bruised black eyes bore into him with a hungry lust. His family would know of this, they would know what to do. They would be ready. Naturally, he put up a front of steel.

"Your family talked to me. They're wondering where you are," he stated.

Matt stared at the human. _Family. _

That was the only foreign word he knew. He did not have a family, no heart. He was an Ekimmu, a vampire born from tradgey. Or was it some word play to confuse him?

"Where are you going?" Matt ignored the plea walking out the door and headed out into the light drizzle. It didn't matter anymore. He was going to let the human take his time to plan, then hide and seek will begin.

Lancet watched the Ekimmu walk away. They had to know! His family had to go into hiding.

His IPhone viberated in his pocket as he sipped his cold latte, thinking about what this meant, and pulled it out of his pocket after sitting the cup down tensely. Akeem's raven icon flashed under the number and name ID.

They needed the FBI's assistance. Something told him that the Ekimmu knew he would not expose him for what he was, but for what he did.

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Sorry for not updating sooner. I was running out of create inspiration. Don't worry about the next chapter though.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyers owns the character's and plot of the _Twilight Series_, only the OCs belongs to me.

* * *

"Zakia, I was hoping you would pick up."

He stared out the window and took a sip of his now nearly cold latte. The line had been long when it was ordered, with the wait being little more over twelve minutes, but the conversation with the Ekimmu was...unexpectedly civil. For an starving one. It was civil until it let him explain the old legends. How it laughed at him as if it was a joke like he had first done had when first told.

His cousin's voice panicked now. "This is Zakia, right? Zakia, answer me."

"I'm here. I thought about calling you to see if anyone was awake." He reassured Akeem.

It was the other end of line's turn to go dead. His aunt and uncle warned about the creature, suspected since the first body - an eighteen year old teenage girl who went shopping with a group of friends - was found near the end of an alley, about how they could appear and vanish.

"Well, Mom was going to do that twenty minutes ago." Ventured Akeem, no doubt thinking about the silence that followed after he picked up. "She...still...believes that the killer is that thing. When you did not check in the last three hours, Dad agreed with her to report it to the police but held off on that. Get home!"

"The killer is a vampire." Cold lips whispered, shaking.

Zakia picked up his latte and walked out into the light rain. His knowledge had him looking both ways down the sidewalk as if it were a street. Nothing out stood out. It had to be ten, the crowd was thinning out.

Akeem sputtered in border line disbelief wordlessly.

It finally was real. The ancient myths and legends were now real. "I do, the Ekimmu..."

"Ekimmu?" Zakia knew the next words. "You are confident it's an Ekimmu?"

Zakia thought about it. Unless he was an abnormally pale albino, it would be comical to think that someone like that could be accused of being undead - unheard of but not possible. But he was. No human could dent a metal chair with their bare hand. He pulled the keys from his pocket as he walked to the driver side door, set the latte on its hood, unlocked the off-road jeep and sat behind the wheel with the phone still pressed to his ear. His cold drink in the cup holder now felt unsettling in his stomach.

"We'll call them when I get there." He could not drive, not just yet. Lancet felt himself still shaking. "Just tell everyone to hold off on using the phone again."

He hung up, but did not start the engine. The latte threatened to make him sick. Thinking about its behavior, there was something pathetic about...

His hands turned on the ignition. It wouldn't be thought of.

* * *

There was no where to go. The human... Matthew ignored the dry inflammation at the thought of how he would find him. Thinking of his name was starting to take too much effort now in the last thirty minutes. It was important that he remembered that name, the human was no doubt getting ready to run with his family. Not too long ago did he follow his scent to the off-road jeep to where it was parked along the street.

Staying in the cafe was too risky. The public has been too on edge ever since the FBI was called in when the second human was discovered in the park; the dog he tied to a stop sign by its leash. The coal haired inter was going to major in nursing, undecided and torn between being an RN and LN. The Italian American tried to help him...but her training kicked in, thinking she was treating a human.

"How long -" Her black eyes softly took in his thin frame as she knelt down. The Boxer barked at him.

"A while." Lounging on a bench, it made him sound hoarsely weak. Would he forget how to use his legs soon?

Those eyes weren't right in color, but the tone of voice brought amber ones to mind. The woman they belonged to was not dark-haired.

His legs began to lose feeling as he walked down the sidewalk, go numb and turn to jelly, while following Zakia's jeep as it drove through traffic thirty paces slower than the its speed limit. The flashback vanished. Matt stumbled, nearly colliding with a passing a human, and he drew in a breath but his lungs burned. Everywhere was acid hanging in the air. It made the world spin in circles. The wall...he didn't know or care what kind...barely registered with his palm. Something was holding him up. The supporting arm had a pounding pulse and warm scent. Whoever it was did not divert his train of thought at all with their earthy scent.

"Call -" It was a whisper, but he heard it. The stomach rolling nausea eventually passed, eating holes into the sense of time.

A hiss at the back of his throat wanted to come out; a vague sense of bile, too. If he could handle being burned from the inside out, then he was strong enough to stand this sore throat. With clenched teeth, he stared at the cement. The action was automatic to pull away. He would not bite this person, not in public. Not...ever!

"I'm fine."

The heart beats pattered frantically in terror.

"How long has it been since you last eaten, son?" The forty-year old assessed him with too knowing eyes. What was did this one see?

It was obvious. A rib-boned teen.

Matthew braced himself for the man to repeat the Assyrian's words. But he must be thinking of how pale he was, imagine how sick the young man before him must be.

Some of the crowd dispersed, grumbling about drug addict and homeless under their breathes; a few others stayed behind but that was not welcomed. The out-of-uniform officer waved away the by-standers, who had cell phones in hand, all they needed was the word.

"Gawking and standing around..." He heard the man whisper in disgust. The officer turned around to face the small crowd. "Get out here. Mind your own business while you're at it!"

They all took one last look at him before reluctantly moving on. The by-standers somehow knew what he recognized himself, or must have to take double takes to be sure. The authority in the man's tone said it all. To some, it was a shock to see an officer out of uniform; it was not to him. Not one bit. Looking...people...in the eye said all that was needed about them, cops had something of a determined guard in theirs'.

Matthew found himself shaking. The restraint may not be enough. He swallowed slowly and let the flaming trail travel down. It did not bother him; it meant that he was still able to move if it hurt.

_No hunting. Not now. _he reminded himself, tensing at the skewering eyes. _Tomorrow. _

The man turned back to him. The look on his face said all that was needed, but his mouth still managed words. Anything to make sense of what he saw. Good thing it was dark enough and there was a thunderstorm expected this evening.

"Let's sit down." The off-duty officer pointed to a sheltered bench at a bus stop on the corner and leaned forward to grab his arm again. Perfect! Very few were travelling around the city, even by bus, and no doubt it was no shocker to see it practically abandoned.

The acidic burning continued the more he stared at cracks rigidly and tried to think of reason that would be sanely reasonable. No one would let an extremely ill...human...go out. Unless...The warm pulse brought Matthew back to reality fully when the hand gently tried to tug him to his side then let go a minute later, gasping, just as he pulled his arm away at the same time.

"Jesus!" the officer wheezed as he rubbed his hand against his thigh, eyes glazed wide. "You're a freezer! Perhaps a cup of coffee will help."

"No," croaked Matthew. He shuddered violently at his hoarse voice. "I can't stand coffee. It gives me a headache."

A hand gripped his shoulder as he straightened and shuffled his feet. Matthew stiffened, braced himself for the man's next move. He now knows what he was accused of being - or suspects something. Chances are that he discovered one of the first two victims after some civilian. Which one? The eighteen year old girl or the twenty year old waiter?

He hung his head again, gritting his teeth against the bile. What was stopping him from leaving? What was wrong with him?!

"Let me take you to a shelter, then." This guy was eager to see him helped. "My name is Evan."

_Sure, he would take me there._

Matthew turned around to face him. There was nothing he could say to make sense to what happened. Acidic fire was all that happened. The man's grey t-shirt and dark jeans did not look like much compared to the navy blue jacket. That was the dangerous part. He could be an undercover cop...or agent.

"Does anyone know you're out here so late?" Evan nodded. His hazel eyes were trying to figure out something, and he did not know who he was dealing with.

"It is nothing new really."

With that he turned around as the burning became an inferno. Matthew stared at Evan with coal-black eyes over his shoulder walking at a fast pace before completely looking forward and not looking back. Evan's words were lost to him. He could care less about who he thought he was dealing with finally; disappearing was easy enough. Then again...may be it wouldn't.

A low hiss escaped clenched teeth. How could he be so reckless?! There had to have been a more subtler way to escape...

The police were now frantically working with the FBI to find whoever it was. That guy could have been an agent sent undercover, if a undercover cop, wired. Matthew kept a frustrated growl from coming out. It was idiotic, walking away like that!

Zakia's scent trail was stronger on the west side of the shopping district block. He turned right on red, out of the area, then left at the light two lights down. He stopped walking, forcing himself to ignore the human's scent for now, and collapsed onto a bus bench as his legs became rubber again. His arms were there, but the numbness in them was distracting.

Matthew looked the way he came to see if anyone was coming. His nose was pulling him west, but the earthy scent of the man was following him...at least that was what he thought. His mind was so cluttered these days. Could it be a sting operation? Could he have had back up with two or more guys in an unmarked car?

Yes, it was possible.

Frantic, alert footsteps were closing in on him on all sides. They were trying to be still, sneak up on him guns drawn, but that was where he had the advantage. He stood up and surveyed his surroundings, steadying himself on the back of the bench. West and east of this block had at least two humans, one positioned across the street.

"He may be in a gang, but let me take the lead." Evan's words amused him. "I'll take the kid, Howard."

Howard argued back, "No, you are not, Evan. What if he has a gun?"

He looked to the west then across the street; the others were waiting for orders. Understandable. No point in taking down a kid who stood up an undercover officer. The sandy-haired agent on the other side of the street shifted nervously shifted from one foot to another, itching to pull out his gun.

The fifty year old bore his eyes into him as much Matthew did. There were four other humans to think about also. This was a ploy to throw him off, like everything else lately. The air was acidic again. He wanted to gasp for air, but none came.

"He's making a run for it." warned the blonde agent.

He gritted his teeth as he heard them run up on him, but the panic did not override his thinking. Matt ran into an alley. It was nothing much. Four trash cans lined the right. One dumpster on the opposite wall. The back alley entrances were too obvious, but there was not much choice. The door on the left was no different from any other door, if someone caught him then it didn't make a difference. They had him trapped. Only not for long.

The ever green door had to be open! If not, then...

_Ripping the hinges off will not help._

The run down shoe store was either under renovations or shut down. Dust motes were beginning to settle on the grey carpet and shelves, but there was no place to hide. At least for ten minutes. Enough time to find a way out. It was a small space, and no doubt would they be swarming every inch before he had some plan. Matthew leaned against the door as feet tried to kick in the lock.

Holing himself up was the only option. Let them pick it and the boarded front doors, send in a tactical team, gas up the place, he was not going with them. If it keeps him from tearing them limb from limb, from...

The banging stopped. Heavy panting and breathing engulfed the silence. It did not bother him at all really, standing there and blocking the door with his body.

"You can't stay in there forever!"

_Yes, I can. Longer than you think. _He moved away from the door after locking it. _I'll be waiting, boys. _

He laughed quietly as one of them cussed under their breath. "He's barcaded himself in! Smart."

_More than you know. _

Moth balls hung in the air thickly, but the faint scent of cherries, blackberries, honey suckle and french vanilla under lay it. It was fairly fresh. The...humans...fixing up this place obviously could careless about who broke in. There was no alarm system installed. Walking down the short hallway, Matthew tuned into the five FBI agents as they tried and tried to break the door down. They were no closer back there; there was alway was the front door.

The inferno had him taking in short breaths. Limping uselessly.

"He's locked it more like it!" murmured a woman, hostlering her Glock by the sound of it. "Evan, how did he look to you when you spoke to him?"

A purple wooden door caught his attention. It was the manager's office. Curiosity almost drew him to the door. On silent feet, Matt paused leaning against the egg white walls, regaining the balance and fighting the sudden nausea. Bile wanted to come up, but he swallowed it, making him want wretch more.

The taste was enough to bring him to his senses. Three of them were heading to the front door in hopes of picking its lock; there was no choice then. He had to face the two human men in the alley. The thought excited him. He could...

_No killing. Just injuring. _

Slowly, Matthew walked towards the back entrance again, straightening his spine and keeping the hissing growl back. Unlocking the door, he steadied himself, braced himself for their scents. Killing these two would only make things worse even if it meant no one would know what he was... He stopped short at the thought of it being true.

Their pounding hearts hammered in their chests. They knew what was coming, and for once, were afraid. The shuffling of their feet said it all, and their wide eyes would, too.

The tension in their bodies heightened. Evan and a blue eyed man aimmed their Glocks at him, shaking though their voices covered the fear. He could smell it.

"Drop to the ground!" his partner ordered, flashing the light in his eyes. He looked ready to have an heart attack.

"Or what?" Matthew stared at them both, a hiss at the edge of his voice. He looked to Evan. "Taking me in won't be so easy..."

Evan shuddered violently. "What are you on tonight?"

"Nothing. Leave me alone."

"That won't be happening." Evan's eyes flashed with pity, only a little, before the steel in them returned. "You know we can't do that, anyway."

Matthew felt his hands clench, the burning thirst reared up. No blood has been split yet, and even now he wanted... He stopped himself going a foot near either them before anything bad happened.

"It's useless, you know." Looking between the two agents, he decided he may as well rip them apart. A growl ripped from his throat, causing both men to stumble back on to their hides and nearly drop their guns as they paled in horror.

Evan could not believe his own ears right.

Matthew took one step forward then walked away quickly at his best human pace. Starting east, he tried to walk at the same "normal" speed as humans. His legs itched to make bigger, faster strides. It was necessary, though. Someone would die from an heart attack for sure if they seen him disappear in a blink, especially the agent. The restraint was maddening.

It caught up to him then. The notation of losing the restraint, growling. The fearlessness was an high.

How it happened was still a mystery to him. But he did know something; Zakia told his family, or is at the moment. Matthew found himself searching for the hazel nut trail that clung to the jeep and hung in the air. It would be thin, almost non-existent, tomorrow. But that did not matter. The game was still on.

_No! _

Now was not the time to look for him. Two blocks south of the confrontation zone, and it still did not feel safe enough to do that. After that, he knew that was enough to drive the men crazy.

Passing a candle shop, he ducked into yet another alley. Seattle was not New York or Chicago, but it was a relief to find a pull down ladder opposite of a building in the process of being renovated, or appeared to be. It was hard to tell outside its cement walls and by the condition of the windows. There was a side door in.

Matthew looked at the door to the right. Were the employees too busy to notice the crash? Of course. Candles demanded attention every hour of the day. Turning back to the metal door, having decided to not kick it in, he leaned against the wall next to it, carefully sticking to the shadows.

_This is the best place? Outside between two shops in an alley? _scoffed Matthew to himself. _There are better places than this. _

Pathetic. But staying put was the only thing that could be done. The FBI by now were possibly regrouping and sweeping the streets and alleys with the cops. In fact, Matthew could take off now but thought better of it. His eyes went to the pull down ladder. It led to a window that could be pushed open; as cliché as it sounded, that was the only option besides hiding in the dark corners.

_Waiting out here is better. _

The heartbeats from the candle store made him think of the thick blood in their veins as he settled next to a dumpster and leaned his head against its stinking metal, eyes closed, ears open for coming sounds of alert footsteps. The rotting trash covered the fresh human stench, but not so much. One girl had a rosy scent. A man had a pine and the forest after a shower.

_No..._

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Review and express your thoughts on this installment.


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